A Picture is Worth 1000 Words
by llanoestacado
Summary: Written for the 2005 LL ficathon. A nice little piece of LL fluff involving the Festival of Living Pictures.


A/N – This story was written for **moonlite fading** as part of the 2005 L/L ficathon. Requirements at the end.

Let's say we are early in S6 – L/L are living together at The Crap Shack. They can be engaged or not – choose your preference.

Thanks to **Heather** and **Conny** for the betas! The story would be terribly flat without your help.

* * *

_Monday, 11:53 AM_

"Luke."

"What?"

"I talked to Taylor today."

"And?"

"Remember a few years ago when we had the Festival of Living Pictures?"

"Yes."

"We're having it again."

"You're not roping me into this."

"Please, Luke?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's insanity, and I am not insane. No!"

* * *

_Tuesday, 5:42 PM_

"Luke, please?

"No."

"But I'm doing the costumes! I'm also the Renoir Girl!"

"No."

"But Andrew can't play 'The Reaper,' they need a replacement."

"No," he says firmly, turning and walking into the kitchen of the diner.

Puzzled that not even the hair flip has worked so far, I am startled when Kirk speaks up. "Lorelai, you know that Luke would have to wax his chest if he played 'The Reaper.'"

I turn to face him. "What?"

"Seriously. 'The Reaper' is made of stone. Stone cannot have a hairy chest. Ergo, Luke would have to remove his chest hair to play 'The Reaper.' I just assumed waxing would be the preferred alternative because of the irritation possible from shaving."

I close my eyes, afraid what the answer to my next question would be, but too curious not to ask. "Kirk, how do you know that Luke has a hairy chest?"

"I've seen him at the lake. Though I guess technically he might not have to wax his chest. Because 'The Reaper' also has facial hair, but they never make Andrew grow facial hair for the part."

"Luke!" I call loudly.

"NO!" he shouts back from the kitchen.

* * *

_Tuesday, 10:15 PM_

As we curl up in bed, I lean over to give Luke a kiss and lay my head on his chest. "Luke, take off your shirt."

"Why?"

"Because I want to feel your skin."

"What?" he asks in an irritated tone.

"I said I want to feel your skin. And I feel whiny. So take off your shirt," I finish, knowing there is just enough moonlight to illuminate my pout.

For a moment, Luke tries to ignore my request, but when he feels me pulling at the hem of his shirt insistently, he acquiesces. Finally, he sits up and removes his shirt, sighing dramatically. After he lies down again I lean over and place my head on his chest. Sighing, I start to trace his collar bone with my fingers, sliding them slowly back and forth over his naked skin.

"Luke, why won't you help with the festival?"

"Because it's stupid."

"It's fun."

"It's lunacy."

I sigh again and run my fingers over his shoulder and down the top half of his arm, lingering for a minute on his bicep.

"You've got really nice arms."

"Uh, thanks. I guess."

"I mean it. Your arms are really hot. You should show them off more," I say as I trace the vein (or is it an artery?) that runs down the side of his muscle. I lift my head from his chest, propping it up on my elbow, still tracing his muscles.

"You know what else is hot?"

After swallowing hard, he chokes out, "What?"

"Your pecs," I murmur as I draw Xs and Os with my fingertips on his skin. "And have I told you that I have a thing for your collar bones? Maybe that's weird, but I just _love_ your collar bones."

After tracing the length of his collar bones a couple of times with my fingertips, I bend over and start to kiss lightly along the length of the one closer to me.

Suddenly, he sucks in his breath and says "You know, you aren't very subtle."

I smile to myself. "_You know_, I wasn't really trying to be." I smile even more as I start to run my fingertips along his abdominal muscles.

"And I am a _big_ fan of your abs. Have I mentioned that?"

He gasps audibly as my fingernails scrape across his abdomen.

"And these muscles down your side here – what are they called?" I ask as my fingers glide from just below the top of his ribcage to his hip.

"O….obliques," he stammers.

I reach down and place my hand on his thigh. I start to trace my way up, running all four fingertips across the material of his sweatpants. "You once told me what these were called, didn't you? I think you said quads or something like that."

He nods.

I pull my hand away and place it on my hip. "Hey Luke."

"What?"

"I think you should help with the festival," I smile seductively, reaching up and tracing my finger along his jaw line.

He looks at me incredulously for a moment, then says in a defeated voice, "I'm not dressing up."

"Please, Luke?" I lean over and whisper in his ear, "I'll be very, very grateful."

"I'm not dressing up, and I'm damn sure not waxing my chest."

"You heard that?" I laugh.

"Yes, I heard it. And was very disturbed by it," Luke pauses for a moment, recoiling at the memory, "-- on more than one level. And I am _not_ dressing up."

"But you'll help?"

He rises quickly from the pillow and kisses me fervently. I break the kiss and put my hand on his chest, preventing him from taking further action.

"You'll help?" I ask, biting my lip and eyeing him lasciviously.

"But I'm not dressing up," he says resolutely as he lunges toward me again, pushing me back down onto the bed.

* * *

_Wednesday, 2:43 PM_

As I walk to the diner for my afternoon coffee and kiss, I hear Miss Patty call to me from her studio.

"Lorelai, dear, did you convince Luke to play 'The Reaper?'" she asks hopefully.

"I'm afraid not, Patty. Though I did convince him to help with building props and backgrounds."

"Oh, honey, that's too bad," she says, her voice laden with disappointment.

"You can't find anyone else to fill in for Andrew?"

"Andrew is going to be here after all – he had the dates for his son's school vacation wrong."

"Oh, okay. Then why the long face?"

She eyes me over her cigarette holder and says salaciously "Oh honey, I just wanted to help with the body makeup." She raises her eyebrow at me and then turns back to her dance class, barking orders about tap dancing.

Feeling sullied by the comment, I turn to walk the rest of the way to the diner.

* * *

_Thursday, 6:32 PM_

After I finish my dinner, Luke places a cup of coffee in front of me on the counter. "Hey, how are the costumes coming?"

"Pretty good. We're in better shape than last time we did the festival. At least Christ and Judas are getting along this time."

"Huh?" Luke asks, making no attempt to hide his confusion.

"Never mind," I sigh. "So, what does Taylor have you working on?"

"Well, most of the set pieces are in good shape. So after checking the stability of all the said pieces, he decided that some of the picture frames need to be 'updated.'"

"Updated?" I ask, looking for an explanation.

"Like I'm supposed to know what the hell that means. These people are crazy. I had to drive all the way to Woodbury to pick up the right kind of 'decorative framing' to use for building the frames. I don't know how in the world I let you talk me into this."

I glance back and forth in the diner to make sure no one can hear what I say next.

"Hey, Luke?"

"What?" he says, clearly agitated.

"On your upper arm, what do you call that muscle opposite your bicep? The one that makes the really sexy dent in your arm when you flex it?"

He swallows hard, blinks, and suddenly says, "Do you want some pie? I've got cherry and blueberry." He walks over to the pie dish and continues, "What am I saying, you want both, don't you? An 'inferior' pie like peach you could turn down, but not cherry or blueberry."

He puts a small slice of each flavor on a plate, comes over and sets it in front of me abruptly, then walks back into the kitchen. I smile as I sip my coffee slowly, savoring the boldness of the new blend Luke has been using.

* * *

_Sunday, 4:30 PM_

"Lorelai, we're going to be late."

"I'm coming!" I yell down the stairs.

"They said we needed to be there by four-thirty. What time is it now? Four-thirty. Which means we are not there!"

"Since when are you so excited about getting to the festival? It will take us two minutes to walk over there. And the only ones who are going to be there before us are Patty and Taylor anyway," I say breathlessly as I bound down the stairs. "Let's go."

"The faster we get there, the faster it is over," he mumbles.

After walking to the town square where the makeshift stage has been constructed, I reach for Luke's hand as we walk to the preparation area that has been constructed behind the stage.

Just as I predicted, the only ones who have already arrived are Patty and Taylor, who appear flustered when we enter, thought they immediately begin arguing about something inane as we join them.

Luke takes a deep breath and walks over to Taylor, gritting his teeth as he says "Taylor, what do you want me to do first?"

I smile to myself as I walk over to the costume rack and start to sort the costumes by size, guessing that will be the easiest way to find them once the participants arrive.

The pageant itself moves relatively quickly. There are no major mishaps with any of the costumes, and Andrew dutifully plays 'The Reaper.' As I watch the makeup team get him ready, I make a mental note to thank him for volunteering for the part – especially given Patty's prominent role in the application of the makeup. Fortunately for Andrew, Gypsy came into the tent just as Patty attempted to apply makeup to the vicinity of his happy trail. Just as Patty's hands were about to go a little too far, Gypsy walked over, grabbed the makeup from the table, and knocked Patty's hands out of the way, finishing the application on her own. Given the steamy looks back and forth between Gypsy and Andrew, I'd say they were in for an interesting night after the show.

There is a minor incident between Christ and Judas, though nothing near as serious as the last festival. Luckily Luke was doing some last minute touch-ups on the table for "The Last Supper" and stopped the fight before it began, though not without Kirk threatening to smite him. Kirk really has a God complex…

About halfway through the pageant, I notice Luke bending over to check the stability of one of the props, and Crazy Carrie, who had been applying makeup to the Chinese acrobats, stops and stares at his ass. Deciding it is about damn time she got a reminder of the proper order of things, I walk over quickly and grab Luke's ass.

"What the hell are you doing?" he yells. Suddenly I'm very relieved that we are between displays.

"Shhh," I whisper in an exaggerated tone. "The next piece is about to go on display. And Crazy Carrie was gawking at you. I had to make sure she knows that you're mine."

He rolls his eyes, but gives me a quick peck before muttering, "Go back to your costumes, crazy lady."

As I start to get the last vestiges of my costume together, I notice Patty and Taylor coming out from behind a dressing curtain, looking flushed. I'm starting to wonder if there is something going on between them. I decide that I'll ask Luke if he's heard anything about it later.

When it is time for the final painting, I go out and play my part dutifully -- and successfully, I might add -- without even flinching.

About 10:00 PM, as I am organizing the last of the costumes back onto the racks for storage, Luke comes into the tent. He flashes me a smile when he sees me and says "How long before we can finally get out of here?"

"Well, your timing is fantastic, mister. I have just finished putting the costumes on the carts, and Taylor has some volunteers coming by in the morning to put everything away and break down the tent and the stage."

"Yeah, I had to give them instructions on how to break everything down."

"What? But you didn't have anything to do with putting it together," I say, confused.

He looks at me and shrugs it off. "Taylor."

I decide this is all the explanation I need. "You ready?" I ask, holding my hand out in his direction.

"Let's go."

We walk out of the tent and I notice that the stars are shining especially brightly tonight. I pull Luke in the direction of one of the benches in the square. "Luke, can we look at the stars for a few minutes?"

He glances at me and rolls his eyes, but nods nonetheless. We sit down, and I rest my head on that spot where his shoulder meets his arm. Realizing that this position is not conducive to stargazing, I shift so that I am laying on the bench with my knees bent and my head in Luke's lap. We sit there reveling in the silence for a few minutes, and Luke begins to gently stroke my hair.

Suddenly, we hear loud giggling and rustling noises coming from inside the tent.

"Luke," I whisper, "what is that?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. The only other people who were still around were Patty and Tay..." He stops speaking suddenly, placing his hand over his face and shaking his head.

He looks down at me quickly and says, "Lorelai, we're going to pretend we never heard that. Ever. Agreed?"

"But Luke, it's good for them. They deserve to be happy during their golden years," I giggle.

"We never heard that. Ever. Agreed?" he says through clenched teeth.

I smile and nod, deciding it will be easier to appease him. Realizing just how late it is and remembering that both Luke and I have to work in the morning, I stand up and offer Luke my hand to help him up. I smile at him and say, "Take me home, big boy."

He shakes his head and returns the smile, taking my hand as we start to stroll toward home. As we walk, I think about just how fortunate I am to have found Luke. I lose track of time reminiscing about everything he has done for me over the years and suddenly we are walking up the steps to the front porch.

"Hey," I say, pulling Luke closer to me. "How come you always do such nice things for me?"

"Well, I seem to remember some coercion and some promises that came with this particular project," he says, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Seriously, Luke. You always do nice stuff for me. You don't even think twice about it. Why?"

He looks at me and breaks into a grin. "Lorelai, do I really need to give you a reason?"

"Yes," I pout. "I feel bad. I feel like there is nothing that I can do for you, but you're always doing so much for me."

His eyes twinkle and a smile plays around his lips.

"Lorelai, I love you. You make me happy. What more could I ask you to do?" As he finishes, he leans in and gives me a soft kiss.

My heart melts and I'm overwhelmed for a moment before I reach up and cup his cheek. "I love you too, Luke." I want to say something more, but I'm afraid that I will ruin the moment if I do.

Still smiling, he tilts his head in the direction of the door and says, "Let's go to bed."

I smile as we walk inside. I reach up and put my hand on his lower back and say, "Hey, Luke? What do you call this muscle?"

_end_

* * *

Requirements: The Festival of Living Pictures, Lorelai coaxing Luke into participating in said festival, and the crazy townies being, well... crazy. ;) 

When doing some research so I could fulfill the request, I learned that there is actually a festival like this! It is held in Laguna Beach, CA and is called "Pageant of the Masters." Y'all might have already known that, but I didn't – just thought it was cool.


End file.
